Kindergarden
by supremegreendragon
Summary: The main characters here are much, much younger. John and Sherlock are starting to like each other a lot but Jim isn't having any of that. cutesy SherlockxJohn. Onesided MoriartyxSherlock
1. Chapter 1

Four year old Sherlock could count to one thousand. Really he did it once. But for the game they only wanted him to count to ten. His little hands covered his eyes as he counted.

"Ready or not. Here I come."

He didn't make it a habit to play with other children but he did need someone's cooperation if he wanted to practice his hunting down techniques. A detective in training had to train everyday so that by the time he was a grown-up, he could track down that Lupin III guy he saw on the telly once.

Many of the others gave themselves away by giggling whenever Sherlock was near. He found Benny behind the fake orchid plant, Sarah underneath the arts and crafts table and Clarky covered in the coats hanging on the coat hanger. Too easy. Only one more to go.

Of course, he was the main challenge. It took Sherlock almost five whole minutes to even get a clue as to where the fat bully was hiding. Then he spotted his culprit almost camouflaged with face paint in the Wild Jungle section of the enormous playroom. The culprit laughed at being found, though the laugh to Sherlock sounded meaner than any other child's.

Jim wasn't actually fat but he was a bully. A big bully that thought he could do whatever he wanted. Jim had minions too, that were too dumb to think for themselves. Under his orders they stole other children's cookies, painted over other children's paintings and mixed all colors of the play-dough so it was all ruined. Sherlock tried to catch them in the act but the teachers would never listen. They believe the much older five year old boy to his own words.

"It took you too long to find me by yourself. So I let you find me," Jim teased.

"Na-uh!" Sherlock argued.

"A-huh," Jim shot back.

And then they both began na-uhing and a-huhing back and forward at each other until one of the teachers, Mrs. Penny who had a constant headache, told them to shut their traps. Both boys stopped.

Jim pulled out a handkerchief he kept in his pocket (for fashion, he said) and wiped the paint off completely. He smiled at Sherlock, his eyes gleaming.

"Well, since you won I guess you deserve a reward. A kiss to the victor."

Sherlock had expected this, he turned before Jim could grab him and ran. Jim watched the younger boy dart all the way to the other side of the room. He felt a stab of hurt but refused to show it to the other kids' who were watching. Instead he just smiled that same plastered smile he had all his life.

He had plans for the future. When he grew up he was going to rule the world and his first order of business would be to pass a law saying that Sherlock had to marry him. Then Sherlock would be a stay-at-home wife while he, as the ruler of the world, made big decisions like which country would win the Olympics. Oh yes, he couldn't wait to grow up.

x

Jim had not followed Sherlock that day, for which the four year old was grateful. He hated the days Jim was in the mood to follow him everywhere. He hated all the attention the elder boy gave him. And how jealous the bully was! Last Valentine's Day he tore all of Sherlock's other Valentine's Day cards so that the only thing he had left was what Jim himself had given him.

Sherlock was sitting alone at the arts and crafts table. All the teachers learned by now that the boy wouldn't play with other children willingly until he felt like it. Sometimes Sherlock's favorite thing to do was to just sit and think. His older brother teased him about that constantly, saying that's what old men do.

In the background the voices droned and the noise mixed together like a terrible tasting soup. But something caught Sherlock's eye. The friendliest teacher, Miss Periwinkle, was talking to a grown woman he had never seen before. In the woman's hands was an older boy with blond hair. Sherlock blocked out all the other noise and focused closely on what was being said by the two grown-ups.

"Well I'm sure John will love it here," Miss Periwinkle said with a genuine smile before turning to the boy, "And there are plenty of sick toys that need to be taken care of, little doctor."

Her cooing caused the boy apparently named John to blush.

"T-thank you," he stammered.

"You thanked me. My, what a gentleman we have here! Be careful, try not to be too polite or people might think you're a grown-up!" Periwinkle winked.

John knew he was being babied and he hated it. He asked his mother to let him down, which she did. His mother waved him off with a tired smile.

After that John looked around his new school. All the children were laughing and running around. It looked like lots of fun. His eyes set on a boy who was sitting by himself. The dark haired boy was staring back at him. John blinked a few times before making his way over.

"Hello," he greeted when he reached the table, "I'm John. Wanna' be best friends?"

Sherlock had received offers like that before. He turned them all down, thinking his detective work shouldn't be tied down by such relationships. But did the women say he had been wanting to become a doctor? That would be a type of friend that wouldn't hinder a detective's work but help it instead. Sherlock quickly went through all the possibilities in his head and decided that the friendship with this one would be worth it.

"I'm Sherlock," he said reaching for a handshake.

John stared at it for a second, as if unsure what to do. Then he took the offered hand and awkwardly shook it. Sherlock's eyes lit up in realization. He stared at the other boy's hand for a moment, then looked up.

"You like flowers, don't you?"

The reaction was immediate. John blushed and pulled his hand away.

"What! No of course not. That's a girl thing."

"It's alright," Sherlock stated softly, "I like flowers too. Especially roses. You were holding a rose a few days ago, weren't you? One that had thorns."

The five year old doctor-to-be was astonished.

"How did you know?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Sherlock loved having the chance to use big words like 'obvious,' "The cuts are almost gone now but they're clearly rose thorn marks. You must've seen a rose and grabbed it without checking for thorns. Which makes me believe that you like flowers."

John looked at Sherlock in newfound wonder.

"Wow. That's amazing."

This time Sherlock was caught off guard. Was John really that impressed? He had never seen an older kid look at him like that, almost as if he looked up to him at that moment and not the other way around.

"You really mean that?"

John nodded without hesitation. Sherlock felt something pleasant stir in his chest just then. He liked John already. Neither one of them were aware that they were being watched. Jim glared when he saw how they were oogling each other. He was so mad he broke the red crayon he was drawing with into two pieces.

* * *

Another older fic. This use to be in the movie-verse section but I decided it's more suited for BBC Sherlock.


	2. Chapter 2

The kids stared at the new kid curiously for a few seconds before they went back to their games. After Sherlock and John chatted a little, the dark haired boy went to study certain topics he thought would benefit him in his future detective business. So he went to the junior books section to pick up an informative 40 page book on different types of rocks.

John was awestruck by his new friend. A 40 page book would take him forever to read, even with pictures. What he didn't know was that some of the pages of that particular book was nothing but pictures of rocks and how they form. Still, Sherlock studied the pictures just as intently as he studied the text.

John decided that he should start seeing some patients. He picked up a teddy bear wearing a black bow tie and laid it down on the patient's bed, which was actually just a stack of blocks he imagined to be a bed.

Mr. Bear had been injured in a car accident, trying to get to work. He had a broken leg. John issued some imaginary medicine for him to help with the pain. He was going to wrap the bear's leg with imaginary bandages until he spotted something better. A long piece of ribbon. He happily picked it up and used that instead.

While he was bandaging Mr. Bear, someone crept behind John. Jim said a not-so-friendly-sounding hello. Startled, John jumped a tiny bit. He turned around and stood up to greet the boy.

"Hello. I'm John. Who're you?"

There were a few other boys watching close by behind Jim. John was unnerved by how mean they all looked. Jim put up a false pleasant smile.

"My name is James Moriarty. I see you're new here, right? Well there's something I need to warn you. Something that could save your life."

Was he joking? That was John's first thought. How could a fellow kindergartner have something to say that was that important? Jim didn't wait for John to respond.

"You met up with Sherlock Holmes. I saw you. But you can't be friends with him. You leave him alone."

John stared at the other boy with wide eyes.

"What? Why? I like Sherlock."

'No one can like Sherlock but me!' Jim screamed in his head.

He decided he would take a more stealthy approach to this situation. It was true that all the other kids knew about Jim's one-sided crush on Sherlock. No doubt John will find out too. But in order to train to be the ruler of the world one day, Jim had to practice a big term called 'manipulation.' He was going to pretend he had no interest in Sherlock and see how affective his lying was on this boy.

"Sherlock is weird," he stated simply, "He eats bugs."

"I heard a lot of people around the world eat bugs. It's good...pro? Protin? I think that's what it's called. That's the stuff that's good for muscles," John said with a smile. He felt so smart.

The minions looked at each other oddly. Jim saw that he was going to have to try harder.

"Sherlock kicks anyone who tries to be his friend," he insisted.

John thought for a moment before responding with yet another cheerful smile.

"My daddy says boys have to be rough with their friends sometimes. It makes them strong. Maybe Sherlock and I could wrestle each other. It'd be fun!"

A couple of minions whispered to each other, saying that's what their parents say too. Jim narrowed his eyes at them. He tried one last time to let John off easy.

"Well Sherlock gets sick a lot. He might throw up on you or make you sick too."

"If he gets sick, then I should be there. I'm trying to be a doctor."

The minions laughed. All of Jim's patience vanished as he clutched his knuckles. Fear crept up inside John when he saw Jim's sudden change in mood. Jim huffed once, motioned with his hand, and before John could blink two of the minions grabbed each of his arms. He struggled.

"What are you doing. Let go of me! Teacher! Teacher!"

Miss Periwinkle came rushing forward with evident concern on her face.

"What is going on here?"

In half a second Jim appeared as innocent as an angel. He stared up at her cutely.

"We're just playing. I'm trying to get the stealer to admit to his crime."

John was about to protest when Jim shot him a daring, scary look. He shut his mouth closed. Miss Periwinkle didn't notice the silent exchange between the two. She smiled.

"Oh, how nice. You're already making friends, John. Now you boys play nicely. Only pretend hitting, okay?"

"Yes Miss Periwinkle," Jim and the minions chanted.

The woman left John all alone. She went back to the lounge only the teachers were allowed into. Jim walked up to where the fearful John was trapped.

"Listen to me," he hissed, "If you do what I say you won't get hurt. My minions know how to hit until even seven year olds cry like babies. Stay away from Sherlock. Don't even talk to him."

Despite how scared he was and how much he wanted his mother, John stood strong.

"Why?" he demanded.

"Because Sherlock is mine."

Sherlock was his? What did that even mean? How can someone belong to someone else? It made absolutely no sense to John. Jim saw his confusion and was only too glad to elaborate.

"One day Sherlock's going to marry me. If you do what I say from now on I may even invite you to the wedding. Sherlock can't have any friends because I don't want him to."

"But that's mean!" John shouted, "What if he gets lonely?"

Jim merely shrugged.

"Then I'll spend time with him. Duh."

Duh. The word hurt John inwardly. He didn't like being treated like he was dumb.

"I'll let my minions let go of you. Only if you promise to stay away from him. Okay?" Jim promised.

"Wait a minute!"

Everyone was surprised by the new voice. Sherlock seemed to have come out of nowhere. He walked in-between James and John. He glared at the former.

"What are you doing to him? Let him go or I'm telling on you."

Jim looked at Sherlock half happy, half sad. He loved having Sherlock's attention but not bad attention. It gave him mixed feelings.

"If I let him go, will you play house with me?"

'No,' Sherlock thought, 'Anything but that.'

He hated playing house with Jim. Not only did it do nothing for his detective training but he also hated the idea of being a house wife. He hated being forced to play with the toy cooking set with its fake food and the girl baby doll. He hated pretending that he actually liked Jim enough to marry him!

Jim frowned at his silence.

"Fine! Ron, hit the 'doctor!'" he said the title with sarcasm.

A rather large minion came up. Sherlock stood in front of him before he could get to John.

"Wait! I'll play I'll play!"

Jim smiled happily and had the minions release John. Sherlock should have known that this would have happened. Perhaps having a friend was too risky after all. The only logical thing to do was to call the friendship off with John when he got the chance.

It was odd. Planning on doing something logical never made Sherlock so sad before...


	3. Chapter 3

"Sherlock. I'm home, honey."

The four year old felt his eye twitch. He didn't look at Jim but instead kept on feeding their 'daughter.'

The girl doll was what they used whenever they played house. Jim called it Claire, even though Sherlock liked the name Rina better. It wasn't an ordinary, everyday name. Sherlock probably liked it because his own name wasn't too common either.

But Jim wouldn't let her name be Rina. So, she was Claire. Once again Sherlock was being forced to play house with the fat bully. He flushed in embarrassment.

John couldn't help but watch the painful sight before him since Jim's minions were making sure no one interrupted the two. Sherlock clearly wasn't having any fun sitting in a chair and cradling the doll. Jim smiled. He walked over to Sherlock and took the doll from his arms.

"Claire needs a nap," he stated, placing the doll in her toy cradle.

Sherlock knew John was watching and that only added to his humiliation. Jim turned his attention back on his pretend wife.

"Honey, I want to go to our special place."

The 'special place' was an opened area surrounded by the backs of furniture. It was where the ocean section of the kindergarten ended and where the fantasy section began. No one else was allowed to go there, behind the giant dragon poster, ocean scenery and giant toy claim. It was for James Moriarty only.

Sherlock felt himself pale slightly. It was never a good sign whenever Jim wanted to talk in private. But there was nothing he could do. If he ran, the minions would grab him and Jim would, once again, convince any concerned teacher that they were just playing a game.

So he followed Jim. He dared himself to take one last, quick glance at John. The doctor-to-be stared at him with a sad, caring expression. But Sherlock didn't want his sympathy. He wanted his respect.

When they reached their destination, Jim shot Sherlock a disapproving glance.

"You're not trying very hard at the game," he announced bitterly.

"What is it I'm doing wrong?" Sherlock demanded. He was already angry enough at being forced to play house in the first place.

"When I come home from a long day's work, you're suppose to be happy. You need to stop whatever you're doing and hug me. Then I give you your present for the day and you have to give me a thank you kiss."

Sherlock's face cringed in disgust.

"But I don't want to kiss you."

"That doesn't matter. One day you'll want to kiss me all the time. Everyone wants a ruler for a husband. You'll be the lucky person who gets one. And one day we'll go all the way."

This struck Sherlock cold. His eyes pleaded for Jim to tell him it was all a joke. But Jim was completely serious.

"You actually think," he began, "That I'll want to go 'that far' with you? All the way?"

"Yes," Jim confirmed casually, "One day you will want to kiss me on the lips."

The five year old had to be crazy, Sherlock decided. Marrying and kissing on the forehead and cheek was one thing but to kiss on the lips, that was quite another. That was something only real grown-ups did.

"Of course, it's a big step and it won't be for a while. But I know that one day we'll go all the way. And you will like it."

"Never!"

He blurted it out before he could stop himself. Jim was taken aback. Then he became angry.

"Oh? And I bet you would want to kiss that fake doctor, wouldn't you?"

Sherlock was now glad that they were alone to talk about this. He felt his face heat up at the thought of kissing John. Jim noticed this and his jealousy intensified.

"I knew it! Why do you like him? What does he have that I don't?"

"You're wrong. I don't like him that way. I just want to be his friend," Sherlock insisted.

Jim paused. Sherlock could tell he was in deep thought. The bully was scheming, he supposed, but of what?

Jim's face softened. He looked at Sherlock endearingly.

"You just want to be his friend, right?"

The question was unexpected and all Sherlock could do was blink. The two stared at each other for awhile before he managed to find his voice.

"Yes. As a doctor he'll be useful to me when I do detective work. That's why I want to be his friend."

The older boy took a moment to sort through his options. If he let Sherlock be friends with John (just friends!) then Sherlock will be happy. And despite what some of the kids believed, he really did like making Sherlock happy.

On the other hand, if he did let Sherlock be friends with him, they may become too close. He didn't want them to start falling for each other. Then again, he suppose he and his minions could keep a close eye on the two. Just in case.

It was decided. Jim informed Sherlock that he could be friends with John, as long as he followed his rules. Sherlock was stunned at first, then aggravated.

"Why do I need your permission to be friends with John?" he demanded.

Jim merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Because, if you don't then I'll frame his parents and make it look like they robbed a bank. Then they'll go to prison."

"You can't do that. You're bluffing!" Sherlock shouted though deep inside he wasn't really sure.

"How do you know?" Jim taunted, "I'm good at framing people. You know that. Remember our play-date at my house? How I always got the dog in trouble for stealing all the snacks when it was me? If I can do that, how can you be sure I can't frame John's parents too?"

Sherlock was struck speechless. He looked down on the floor. Jim might be able to pull it off. And he was certainly evil enough to do it. Then John wouldn't have parents to take care of him. He'll have to go away until they're free! And they may not be free for a whole year! That was forever.

He couldn't let John be lonely that long. And he couldn't risk not seeing him either. So he agreed, feeling like he had sold his soul.

x

John was caught off-guard at how much more fun Sherlock seemed to be having after the two boys got back. Sherlock was smiling while he was cooking up pretend steaks for his pretend husband.

Jim had the doll in his arms. He was also looking very happy.

"I think Claire might grow up to be queen one day. That's a tough job but she can do it. Don't you think, honey?"

This time, Sherlock forced himself to respond.

"Of course," he paused before he said the next word, "Dear. I'm glad to have such a lovely daughter with you."

John wasn't the only one surprised. The minions on guard had never seen Sherlock so willing to play house with their boss. Whenever he was forced the dark-haired boy would always sulk and say as few words as possible. And he would never smile.

Jim hugged the doll tightly. He was so happy he wasn't even sneering. It was an innocent smile that was so unlike him when he wasn't trying to pretend to be innocent.

"I want to give you a rose garden, Sherlock. Red roses are your favorite, right?"

Though that was true, Sherlock didn't want a rose garden from Jim. He didn't want anything from Jim. But the older boy's threat left him with too much to lose. So he will have to go through with this.

As unhappy as he was, at least he'll be friends with John. And for some reason that seemed to be worth it. Still, was it really going to be this way from now on?


	4. Chapter 4

Like every weekday, eleven year old Mycroft Holmes was riding in the car with his mom to pick up Sherlock. Mycroft had just got out of school and he had Math homework to do. A yawn escaped his mouth.

"You really should get more sleep," his mother stated, her eyes on the road.

More sleep. More sleep. She always said that. But Mycroft already got so much of it. Nine and a half hours! From 10 to 7:30 in the morning. And he hardly ever felt rested no matter how much sleep he got the night before. He sometimes wondered if he had slight hypersomnia.

His mother waited in the car while Mycroft went inside, as was the standard procedure. He was greeted by the roaring of load children. And he was also greeted by a very peculiar sight.

Sherlock with a baby doll in his arms. And next to him was a smiling Jim. Jim kissed Sherlock on the cheek. It made Sherlock miserable and Mycroft's blood to boil. He strode over and took his little brother by the hand.

"Come on Sherlock. Mummy's waiting. Put the doll down."

For once, Sherlock happily obeyed Mycroft. Jim glared at the older Holmes but said nothing as the two walked off. Suddenly John was in front of them, causing Mycroft to stop short.

"Sherlock. Are you leaving? When will you be back?" he sounded crushed.

The dark haired boy looked at John.

"Tomorrow. We'll see each other then, John."

Sherlock felt his older brother tighten his grip but not so much as to cause him any discomfort.

"Let's go Sherlock. You can talk to your new friend later."

With that Mycroft practically dragged Sherlock out the door.

x

They went home and had some soup and sandwiches for dinner. Mycroft was trying to get Sherlock to put more vegetables on his sandwich. Sherlock was stubborn. Their mother went out for awhile.

"You're not the boss of me."

Mycroft sighed. He sipped a spoonful of his soup. He decided that now was the time to ask.

"By the way, why were you playing house with Jim?"

Sherlock tensed up immediately. His eyes were gazing hard at the floor and his bottom lip puckered out. He said nothing, so Mycroft pressed on.

"I thought you didn't like him. Didn't he try to propose to you with that lollipop ring thing? And you said no so he got his other friends to hold you down while he forced it through your finger?"

Sherlock didn't look at his brother but he did nod bitterly. Mycroft took another bite of his sandwich, chewed for several seconds and swallowed.

"So tell me Sherlock. Why were you playing that game with him?"

"I don't want to tell you."

"Does it have something to do with that new friend of yours? John?"

Sherlock's head snapped in his direction. Astonishment was on the younger boy's face. Mycroft withheld a smile, proud of the fact that he surprised Sherlock who thought himself incapable of surprise.

"How do you know?" Sherlock couldn't prevent the wonder in his voice. It made Mycroft slightly giddy whenever he impressed his brother.

"It's just a hunch. I can tell he really likes you. And the fact that you spoke so openly to him, when it was no doubt his first day there has to make him something special to you too," Mycroft paused for a moment, "I can already see Jim getting jealous of that alone."

Sherlock pushed his plate aside. Suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore.

"He's not the boss of me. He's not!"

Mycroft frowned at that.

"Then why did you play with him? What did he do or threaten to do to John?"

Too smart. Mycroft was too smart and caught on to the situation so much faster than Sherlock ever could. It made the younger brother green with envy.

"He told me he would frame John's parents and make them go to prison. He did it with the dog!" he insisted, "So I know he can do it."

This time Mycroft couldn't stop the tug on his lips, so he gave up and let it spread into a full smile. Sherlock glared at him as fiercely as he could. It only made Mycroft smile wider.

"Sherlock. He can't do that. I promise you."

"How do you know?" Sherlock demanded angrily. He felt like he was being looked down upon.

"Because in order to do that he would need to make it look like John's parents committed a crime. And he'll need their fingerprints for that. If the police don't find their fingerprints then they can't be connected to the crime."

It felt as if a blinding veil had just been lifted from Sherlock's eyes. Fingerprints! He forgot all about those! That's right. How was James going to get their fingerprints? And now that he thought about it, how was Jim himself going to accomplish robbing a bank? There were night guards there and everything.

All his anger dissipated from the realization. Sherlock started to laugh happily. Mycroft stared blankly. He held up a finger.

"Okay. So now you know. But now it's time for me to issue a few new rules."

Sherlock stopped short in confusion.

"It's about your new friend," Mycroft continued, "I know you guys like each other, which is perfectly alright. Still I don't want you two to do any hugging or kissing or pretend marrying. None of that."

"Why not?"

Sherlock didn't know why he had even ask. It wasn't like he actually wanted to do any of those things with John.

...Right?

"Because you're too young. You don't need to be thinking about those kinds of things yet."

A fly buzzed around them. It smelled the food nearby. It barely landed on the table a second before Mycroft snatched it in the palm of his hand like a toad's tongue. Sherlock was unfazed when he watched his brother stood up to open the window and let the fly outside.

Several months ago Sherlock would've been awed by such a sight. Right now, however, he was staring to feel aggravated again.

"I'm going to be in First Grade soon. I think I am old enough. But you don't have anything to worry about. I'm not going to do those things. I don't want to."

"Well then. As long as we've come to an agreement," Mycroft smiled.

x

The next day Sherlock was all too glad to tell Jim what his brother said. The five year old showed no emotion while Sherlock was talking.

However when Sherlock left, Jim let out an unhappy groan. He hated that Mycroft! He always got in the way as far as Sherlock was concerned. Once Jim ruled the world he would make sure Mycroft would have to live far, far away from him and Sherlock. Maybe even all the way to Mars.

Now Sherlock was talking with that John kid. John was smiling and...oh! Sherlock was smiling too? Jim was heartbroken but he changed all his misery to anger. One day he would be the only one who could make Sherlock happy. He was now more determined to rule the world than ever.


	5. Chapter 5

John watched while Sherlock kneeled down to inspect the crumbs on the floor. Sherlock was happy to get a chance to use a really big word.

"Peculiar."

"What is it?" the elder boy asked.

Sherlock picked up a rather large crumb and took a close look at it.

"Isn't it weird, John? We're looking for the culprit who ate Lestrade's crackers, right? But something's off about these crumbs."

The detective in training put the crumb in his mouth and chewed.

"Just as I thought."

John was getting extremely interested in where his new friend was going with this.

"What?"

"The crackers the teachers gave us at snack time were honey-flavored graham crackers, remember? They were sweet. But the crumb I ate tasted was too salty and not sweet at all."

"So then those crumbs can't be from Lestrade's crackers," John lowered his head in defeat.

Sherlock picked up a different crumb and ate it. He chewed very thoroughly.

"Actually, there are two kinds of crumbs here. From two different crackers. Both honey-flavored and salty crackers were eaten here. And we know it was here that Lestrade put them while he went to get some juice."

That was right. Lestrade did place his crackers on the floor and left for a while. When he got back they were gone and only the crumbs remained.

John didn't think it was a good idea to put food on the floor. It can get germs on it and make you sick. He remembered seeing a scary video about germs making kids sick. He had trouble sleeping after that.

Sherlock smiled. He jumped up.

"Aha! I know who did it. Come with me, John."

The younger of the two darted across the room and Jon followed. Mr. Falls (the only male teacher there) told them not to run. Sherlock and John slowed their pace by a fraction.

Sherlock led John to the underwater section. He came up to a girl playing with a stuffed sea horse.

"Penny. I know you took Lestrade's crackers."

The girl named Penny gave him a hard look. She put the doll down.

"You don't know that. You're a liar!"

"Yes I do. You're the only one here who brings saltine crackers to school. The crumbs were both honey-flavored and salty at the scene of the crime. You ate both Lestrade's and yours."

"They could've just been my honey-flavored crackers."

Sherlock shook his head.

"In the exact same spot as where Lestrade left his? Not likely."

Penny glared fiercely at him. John was worried that there might be a fight. Sherlock held up a finger, unconsciously copying his brother.

"You have two choices. Say you're sorry to Lestrade or don't. But if you don't then I'm telling the teacher."

This caught Penny's attention as her face fell.

"O-okay. I'll go."

They watched her walk over to Lestrade. John looked at Sherlock.

"By the way, Lestrade's kind of a weird name."

"It's his last name. He never tells anyone his first name," Sherlock commented.

"I wonder why..."

Sherlock shrugged, not really caring. He flashed a smile at his friend.

"Well, that was a job well done. Our first case solved together!"

The five year old was flattered that he was a part of detective work. At such a young age too. He couldn't wait to tell his mom.

The two boys decided to go to the arts and crafts section and color with crayons. Sherlock didn't really want to but seeing how much John wanted to color prevented him from protesting.

Sherlock sat in his chair while John scribbled away. Sherlock didn't know what he wanted to try to draw. He looked over John's shoulder and found, much to his surprise, that John was drawing someone who looked very familiar.

"Is that suppose to be me?"

John flushed at being caught. He looked at Sherlock sheepishly.

"Yeah. I was going to draw you with some flowers since you like them a lot."

"Oh."

That was all Sherlock could say. John continued drawing. Suddenly Sherlock knew what he wanted to draw. Grabbing the black crayon, he carefully outlined the sketch, then colored it in.

When the two were done they traded papers to show to each other. Sherlock saw that in the drawing of himself he was holding a yellow flower and there were a lot of red flowers around his feet.

Meanwhile, John was impressed by the younger boy's work. It was so much better than his! It was a picture of him and Sherlock holding hands and there was a heart right above them.

"Wow! That's amazing."

Sherlock frowned.

"My work? No it's not."

"Yes it is," John insisted, "And look at how big the heart is. We must really like holding hands in the picture."

"Yeah...That's what friends do right..."

Immediately, Sherlock fell quiet, his eyes staring off into the distance. John looked at him curiously.

"Hey, you want to put our drawings in our bags? So we won't loose them?" he suggested.

Sherlock thought that was a very good idea, not because he might loose his drawing but because a certain someone would tear it up if he ever found it. He nodded and the two walked together.

Almost automatically, John held out his hand while walking and Sherlock took it. The intimate contact caused both boys to blush and smile. For a moment they didn't even care that everyone was watching and whispering.

That is until, someone stormed in front of them, blocking their path. Jim glared right at John. His minions behind him made him look more intimidating. John wanted to back away but Sherlock wouldn't have it.

"What do you want? You're blocking our way."

"Why does _he_ get to hold your hand?" Jim demanded angrily, "Why does _he_ get to color with you? What's so special about him?"

Sherlock tightened his grip on John's hand. John frowned and clutched his drawing with his free hand.

"John is my friend. I like him."

"I don't want you to like him!"

"Well, you can't always get what you want," Sherlock pointed out.

Jim shot him a challenging look. The minions crept forward and circled the two boys. John and Sherlock were trapped but Sherlock's calmness to the situation gave John courage.

"Sherlock, you better let go of his hand and come play with me right now. If you don't then you'll regret it," Jim warned.

It had to be an empty threat, Sherlock decided. There was nothing Jim could do to John. Sherlock stuck his tongue out at him. Jim's face redden in anger.

"Fine," he turned to his minions, "Beat up John and bring Sherlock to me. Don't hurt Sherlock."

The boys barely moved a step forward when Miss Periwinkle suddenly came out of nowhere with a bright smile on her face.

"Alright children. It's nap time. Go find a stuffed animal while the grown-ups set up your beds."


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock was happy when he found out he'd been assigned to the bed next to John's but was upset because Jim was also assigned next to him.

The three were underneath their covers in the fantasy section. John was surprised to see how many stuffed toys there were. And he got to sleep with one. Neat! He chose a stuffed knight because it was cool.

Sherlock didn't much care for fantasy since it didn't help with detective work. He grabbed the first doll he could find, a stuffed bearded king.

Jim focused his sole attention on Sherlock, who had his back turned to him because Sherlock was focusing on John. Jealousy surged inside him but Jim forced himself to calm down. After nap time he would teach John a lesson, he promised himself. He had an evil wizard for a stuffed toy.

The teachers were all keeping a very close eye, so talking during nap time was out of the question. Drowsiness took over everyone and one-by-one they all fell asleep.

John's dream:

_He was all grown up now. He was so happy! He was also in a doctor uniform and he was working in the hospital._

_One of the nurses told him over the intercom that he had a new patient, so he told her to send the patient in. The door opened not a second after that; John was shocked to see who it was._

_An older Sherlock!_

_His old friend smiled at him. John stood up._

_"Sherlock? What's wrong?"_

_Sherlock opened his mouth but nothing came out. Sherlock frowned and looked at John sadly, pleading for him to help._

_"You can't talk?" John asked._

_Sherlock nodded._

_"Well, let's have a look."_

_So John took out his hi-tech tools from his medicine bag and inspected Sherlock. He asked his friend to open his mouth while he peered inside._

_John was astonished to find that inside, there was an empty battery holder in his throat. John placed his tools away and looked at Sherlock._

_"Someone took the batteries out of your talk box. That's why you can't say anything."_

_Sherlock nodded, as if he had already known. Before John could question him further, the door opened again._

_John's heart sank. This time it was an older Jim. Said man had a rose in his hand, one without thorns. He ignored John and ran straight to Sherlock._

_"Honey! Why did you run away from home? Didn't you like all the jewels I gave you? Come home before something terrible happens to you. One minute outside could be dangerous for you."_

_Sherlock narrowed his eyes at him, crossed his arms and then look away. Jim held up the rose._

_"Look! It's your favorite! Now will you forgive me for taking your voice battery away?"_

_"So you took it away?" John exclaimed._

_Jim glared at him._

_"You can't have him. He's mine!"_

_"Why'd you take his voice away?" John asked, ignoring the other's outburst._

_"Because he wouldn't stop talking about you!"_

_John was taken aback. When his astonishment lessened, his face heated up._

_"R-really?"_

_He couldn't help it. The thought of Sherlock always talking about him made him incredibly happy. Jim's glare intensified and he threw the rose down._

_"I don't know what he sees in you! You're dumb and ugly! I hate you!"_

_Sherlock's eyes twitched but he didn't make any movement. John felt the sting of Jim's harsh words. He tried not to show it._

_"Sherlock should only love me!" Jim continued, "I'm the only one good enough for him. I'm smart and handsome and can give him anything he wants. So stay away from him."_

_"You can't decide who's good for Sherlock and who isn't. Especially if you don't let him talk. You can't take someone's talk battery away just because you don't like what they're saying."_

_This caused Sherlock to smile at John. John returned the smile. Jim growled at the two. He pulled out two laser guns and tossed one to John, who caught it uncertainly._

_"Fine. We'll fight for him," Jim pointed his laser gun at John, "Whoever wins gets to marry him."_

_Suddenly, the entire room changed from a hospital to a cliff five billion-ka-trillion feet in the air. Sherlock was on a different cliff, trapped in a cage. John ran towards him to help but Jim fired, causing him to dodge out of the way._

_The laser was a strong reddish-orange color, the area that it hit disintegrated completely. Now John had even less room to dodge. Jim fired again and John barely managed to get out of the way a second time._

_"Fight back! Or are you scared? Chicken! You're too chicken to marry Sherlock!" Jim taunted._

_John stood tall, carefully aimed his gun and fired. Debris flew everywhere and smoke prevented anyone from being able to see for a moment._

_When the smoke died down, both Sherlock and Jim were shock to see that John had aimed away from Jim deliberately. He hit the cage instead and now Sherlock was free._

_"Why did you do that? Now he'll get hurt!"_

_"No he won't," John said quietly, "'Cause he can take care of himself."_

_Jim stomped his feet angrily._

_"No he can't. NO HE CAN'T! He needs me!"_

_Sherlock glared at him. Quick as lightning, the detective ran up, snatched some batteries out of Jim's pocket and ran up to John._

_"Wait! You can't marry him!" Jim pointed out in one last desperate attempt, "You didn't win! You didn't even fight!"_

_"I'm not going to fight to marry him," John explained, "If I want to marry him, I'll ask him. And I'll do it only if he says yes."_

_Jim somehow vanished into thin air but neither John nor Sherlock questioned it. It wasn't important. Now they were alone, this time on ground level in a small garden underneath a full moon. John flushed and put a hand behind his head sheepishly._

_"You know Sherlock. I...um..I really like you."_

_Sherlock smiled. John gulped nervously._

_"Um..do you like me?"_

_He received a nod for an answer. John braced himself._

_"Would you...maybe..want to...go out with me? You know, as boyfriends?"_

_Sherlock popped the batteries inside his mouth so he could speak. He looked at John in the eye, opened his mouth, and said-_

"John? Sweetie? Your mommy's here. It's time to go home," a soft, feminine voice gently woke John from his nap.


	7. Chapter 7

Sherlock was all grown up and a real detective. And better yet, John was with him as his teammate doctor. Sherlock knelt down to inspect the red ketchup on the floor while John watched.

"This stain is fresh. Whoever ruined this floor on purpose must still be in this room."

John was standing behind him. He stared at his friend in wonder. Sherlock loved it whenever John did that.

"That's amazing Sherlock."

Sherlock smiled to himself. He stood up and turned towards the doctor.

"No. It's simply elementary, my dear John."

John scratched his head as a sign of confusion.

"What does elementary mean?"

"It means easy to understand."

"Oh. Well, do you know who did it?"

Sherlock examined the room. It was a big kitchen. There was a picture on the wall with writing on it. The writing said: **Ha-ha! I did it! Love Jim Moriarty. :-3**

"It was Moriarty," Sherlock deduced with a sick feeling in his stomach.

It was good that he had John with him. Sherlock didn't like the thought of handling his worst enemy by himself. John pointed to a door. A door that was opening.

The two men braced themselves when Moriarty entered with evil henchmen following behind him. Moriarty smiled at Sherlock.

"Honey, I'm home. Why don't you leave that silly doctor behind you and come with me? I promise to give you all the roses you want. And they'll all be red."

Sherlock glared. He pointed to the floor.

"You ruined this perfectly nice carpet. You're evil."

"That's right," John added, "He doesn't want anything to do with you."

The henchmen started surrounding Sherlock and John. Trapped but not afraid, Sherlock continued to stare at their leader. Moriarty was frowning. Out of nowhere he pulled out a diamond ring.

"Forget the carpet, Sherlock. Marry me and together we'll rule the world."

"The answer is no," Sherlock told him coldly.

Moriarty arched an eyebrow, clearly amused.

"I don't remember asking you. I'm telling you. Marry me, Sherlock. Or else John will get hurt."

One of the henchmen grabbed John from behind, strangling him. Sherlock stared in horror. He wanted to punch the guy's face in but the other henchmen were blocking his path.

Moriarty hummed to himself, happy with the turn of events. He obviously thought he already won. But Sherlock would show him. The detective pressed a button that was on a remote he brought out of nowhere. A single, push-able, red button. In the next instant, all the henchmen were gone, setting John free and leaving Morarity gaping.

"What did you do?" the villain asked.

Sherlock held up the remote in pride. John was looking at him in awe, something that made him even more proud.

"This is a time machine I invented. I sent your henchmen to the Victorian era."

Moriarty scrunched up his nose.

"Ew. No one wants to live in the Victorian era."

"That's why I sent them there."

"What's the Victorian era?" John asked cutely.

Moriarty glared at the doctor and then turned pleading eyes toward Sherlock. He took a step closer, the ring held out in front of him. Sherlock instinctively took a step back. The button wouldn't work on Moriarty. The villain was so evil that not even a time machine could do anything.

"Why him? Why not me? I'm just as smart as you. You'll never get bored if you're with me. We'll make our daughter queen of the entire universe and then we'll retire to Greece. How can you resist?"

John moved in front of Sherlock, blocking the villain's path. Moriarty let out a frustrated scream.

"Sherlock. You better come here and put this ring on your finger right now. If you don't then John will get it."

Sherlock stuck his tongue out. Moriarty's face was reddening in anger.

"Fine! But let me tell you. It's not like those were my only minions."

Just then, dozens of henchmen dashed into the room. One grabbed John again. One grabbed Sherlock while another one grabbed the remote in his hand. The good guys struggled to get away but it did no good. The henchman that was holding Sherlock held Sherlock's hand out in front of Moriarty. The villain smiled, breathed on the ring and rubbed it on his jacket.

"Thank you, minion."

The ring slid onto Sherlock's finger. Sherlock cried out in defeat. The henchman let go of him and Sherlock immediately tried pulling off the ring. But it wouldn't budge.

Mortified, Sherlock turned to John. John was still trapped by a henchman. The doctor stared at the two with sadness in his eyes.

Moriarty grabbed Sherlock's hand. He smiled at the detective, full sets of teeth showing. A minister appeared in front of them.

"Do you, Moriarty, take Sherlock as your husband?"

"I do," Moriarty didn't take his eyes off of Sherlock.

This couldn't be happening. Moriarty just couldn't win like this. Sherlock turned to John.

"Do you, Sherlock, take Moriarty to be your husband?"

His heart ached so badly it felt like something was hammering away on it. Moriarty forced Sherlock's head to turn around so that they were making eye contact. So that Sherlock wasn't looking at John anymore.

Moriarty was frowning now. His eyes were narrow and had absolutely no trace of sympathy for Sherlock's distress. Sherlock's silence apparently stretched out for too long.

"You know what you're supposed to say. Do what I want or else John is going to get a Chinese burn."

John wasn't scared but Sherlock was. He didn't want that to happen to his best friend. So there was nothing else he could do.

"Don't give into him, Sherlock. I can handle it," John told him.

Sherlock admired his courage. John was the best partner he could have ever hoped for. But Chinese burn marks took forever to go away. Plus, it really really hurt too. Sherlock inhaled sharply and looked at the minister.

"I...I..." he stammered.

Moriarty's good humor returned. He flashed a cheeky grin at the detective, swinging both their arms back and forward in a jolly manner.

"Yes? Go on dear. Say those words."

Sherlock closed his eyes. Might as well get it over with. He was just about to say 'do' when a scream made him snap his eyes open. John had just bit down hard on the henchman's hand, causing the minion to let go.

Once he was free, John grabbed Sherlock and the two ran out of the building. Moriarty called out for Sherlock to come back but the two didn't dare to listen. They ran until they were safely inside the police station.

They both panted out of breath. Lestrade came up to them and Sherlock told him where they could find the carpet staining fiend. Then Sherlock and John were alone.

"John. You saved me. Thank you."

"It's what friends do," John grinned at him.

Sherlock couldn't prevent the blush that crept up in his cheeks. He wanted to ask John to supper with him. They needed to celebrate. But for some reason his lips weren't cooperating.

John took off the infernal ring on Sherlock's finger like it was nothing. Sherlock smiled at his favorite doctor of all time.

"Do you want to eat with me?" Sherlock forced himself to ask.

"Is this a date?" John asked seriously.

Sherlock put a hand over his head sheepishly.

"Yes. I mean. If you want it to be."

"Sherlock," John said, "I would-"

"Like it very much if you wake up right now," his brother's voice cut through his dream like a knife.

Startled awake, Sherlock looked at Mycroft. The elder brother was bent over, looking at him impatiently.

"It took you long enough. Come on. Mummy's waiting."

Sherlock looked over to where John was sleeping but the doctor-to-be was gone. He must have already gone home, Sherlock thought. He felt sad that he didn't have a chance to say goodbye.

What a silly thought. They would see each other tomorrow, right? Why did Sherlock want to say goodbye so badly.

Mycroft straightened his stance and peered down at his little brother.

"Come on. Let's go, Sherlock. I want to make it home before it starts to rain."

"Alright. I'm coming," Sherlock grumbled.

The four-year-old couldn't wait until he got to play with John again. Maybe he would even tell John about the dream that he had.

* * *

I don't know if people in England call them Chinese burns or Indian burns. If I made a mistake, please let me know. Thank you.


	8. Chapter 8

John eagerly hopped out of his bed. The sun was starting to come up. That meant it was time for school, which meant that he could see Sherlock.

He was about to wake his mother when he had a thought. His mother always changed his clothes for him. But he was 5 years old. Maybe it was time for him to dress himself. He was almost a man, after all.

It was decided. John looked in the mirror for guidance. The mirror went down all the way to the floor, so it was easy for John to see it. His Tardis pajamas were soft and made of cotton. John went through his drawers and got out his favorite blue shirt and some jeans.

So far so good. Now it was time for John to put them on. First, however, he had to take off his pajamas.

But how was he supposed to do that? His mother made it look so easy.

John pulled at his shirt, trying to get it off. He knew that it had to go over his head but he couldn't figure out how to pull it over his head. He managed to get close but his head got caught in his pajama shirt.

While he was struggling to get out, his mother came in the room. She blinked at the sight before reaching down and pulling off the shirt completely. John stared up at her and gave her a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Mommy."

"Were you trying to dress yourself?" she asked.

John's face flustered. He had been caught in the act. His mother giggled softly to herself.

"Let me help you," she offered, looking at the blue shirt that was carelessly tossed onto the floor, "Is this the shirt you wanted to wear?"

John nodded. She helped him changed and then took him to school. John was upset that he couldn't change himself. But at least seeing Sherlock would cheer him up. The doctor-to-be rushed inside and his mother waved him goodbye.

Jim got in front of John, blocking his path. John wasn't afraid of him, even if Jim had a bunch of big kids behind him. Jim frowned at him.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To see Sherlock," John answered without fear.

This made Jim glare. He hated that John gave him such a straightforward answer. He wanted the wannabe-doctor to be intimidated by him. No one was friends with Sherlock unless Jim said so.

Jim suddenly smiled when an idea came to mind. An evil, wicked idea. Jim casually brought his hands behind his back.

"But Sherlock doesn't even like you. Not really," he told John.

John didn't believe it for a moment. He glared at Jim.

"That's a lie."

"It's true," Jim insisted, "I've known Sherlock for a lot longer than you have. I've seen him use people and call them his friends before."

The blond haired boy titled his head. He wasn't as confident as before.

"Use them? Like how?"

Jim knew that he was winning. With a smirk, he put a hand on John's shoulder. John was unnerved by this.

"I just want to help you. Sherlock used lots of kids before. He told them that he was their friend but all he really wanted was for them to help him with his detective work. He didn't care about them at all. He even made one girl cry and he didn't care."

"That doesn't sound like him at all," John exclaimed.

"But you didn't really know him for all that long, did you? I know what he's really like. You better leave him before he hurts you too," Jim sounded like he was genuinely concerned for John.

Jim let go of John's shoulder and turned to walk away. Before he left, he gave John one last glance.

"Think about it. Sherlock doesn't really like you. I know that you'll make the right choice," with that, Jim left.

The other big kids followed him. John was standing there in a daze. What Jim said had to be a lie. It just had to!

A few minutes later, while John was playing with some blocks, Sherlock appeared before him. John smiled at Sherlock but Sherlock knew that it was forced. The detective-in-training sat down beside his friend.

"What's wrong, John? You don't look very happy," Sherlock observed.

Should John tell Sherlock what Jim said? What would Sherlock say if he did? What if Sherlock really _was_ just pretending to be friends?

John stared down at his block. It just had to be a trick. One of Jim's tricks.

"Nothing," muttered John.

Sherlock didn't believe him but he wasn't going to press his friend for answers if John didn't feel like it. Sherlock offered a smile.

"Well, do you want to play detective with me again? I like that game."

His words caught John off guard. Jim had told him that Sherlock was only using John for detective work. Did this prove it? John looked at Sherlock.

"Why do we have to play detective? Why can't we play something else?" he demanded.

His sudden defensiveness stunned Sherlock into silence. Then Sherlock frowned at him.

"I never said that we couldn't play something else. I was just asking if you wanted to play that game. Don't bite my head off for no good reason, you jerk," Sherlock didn't mean to call his friend names but he was really hurt.

John glared at him. The blond stood up and walked away.

"Fine! If you think I'm a jerk, then I don't want to play with you anymore," he called after him.

"Fine!" Sherlock screamed, "I don't need friends anyway!"

Sherlock kicked the block that was in his way and sulked all the way to the book section. He pretended that he was reading, when he was actually using the book to hide the fact that tears were forming in his eyes.

Stupid John. Maybe he never really liked Sherlock in the first place. Maybe John really was a jerk.

John was pouting in the corner. He was also very close to crying. Sherlock was using him the whole time and he didn't see it. Well, at least he managed to end their so-called friendship before Sherlock hurt him.

Neither Sherlock nor John noticed Jim watching them and smirking. He had won. Sherlock was now friendless. Which meant that Sherlock belonged to him. Without a friend to distract him, Sherlock could now pay attention to Jim.

x

When Mycroft entered the building, he could practically feel the negative vibe coming from the room. Sherlock was as far away as possible from John, banging a red crayon on a piece of paper. Mycroft noticed that the paper was a picture of John and Sherlock holding hands and a heart above them. The heart now had a jagged line cutting across its middle and John was being stabbed repeatedly by Sherlock's red crayon.

That couldn't be good, thought Mycroft with a frown. He came up behind Sherlock.

"Mummy's waiting. Come on, Sherlock. We'll talk about this later," he whispered to the younger boy.

Sherlock stood up without looking at Mycroft. He trudged away.

"There's nothing to talk about," he muttered.

The drive was awkward. Their mother knew that Sherlock was upset but she didn't know why. Mycroft gave her a knowing look, letting her know that he could take care of this. She knew Mycroft liked acting like a parent to Sherlock but she always thought that Mycroft should act more like a child his age.

Still, she knew that Mycroft had a special bond with Sherlock. She knew that he could help him with whatever was troubling him. So she left the two alone while she cooked up some dinner.

"Let's talk," Mycroft said before Sherlock could head to his room.

"There's nothing to talk about," the toddler repeated.

"I think there is. Let's talk about John," Mycroft said gently.

"Who's John?" Sherlock muttered angrily.

"Why are you mad at him? What happened? Weren't you two friends?"

Friends. The word brought moisture to Sherlock's eyes. Mycroft watched his little brother in interest. He knew a break down was coming.

"We were never friends! He hates me so I hate him."

"Tell me in detail what happened," Mycroft suggested, his voice just as soft and patient as ever.

Sherlock sighed. He didn't want to relive the moment. But he told his brother anyway. Mycroft pursed his lips in thought.

"He just snapped at you like that? All for asking if he wanted to play detective?"

Sherlock nodded his head vigorously. Yes. It was all John's fault that Sherlock didn't have a friend anymore. Mycroft took a moment to think.

"It's weird that he would act like that without an incentive. I'm not pointing fingers but it sounds like Jim might have told him some things before you two talked."

A flash of realization shot through Sherlock. Jim. Of course! He must have made up some lie to John.

What was he going to do now? Sherlock was at a loss. Mycroft placed a hand on his tiny shoulder.

"John made a mistake. That much is clear. But I know that you want to give him another chance. You've been so happy these past few days and I know it's because of him. Please, Sherlock. For your sake forgive him and be his friend again," Mycroft sounded so worried.

Sherlock was so hurt that John believed a lie about him so easily. How could he forgive him?

But, thought Sherlock, maybe that was just because of John's trusting nature.

What should he do?


	9. Chapter 9

Sherlock was very hesitant to go to school that day. He even tried to fake an illness but his mother didn't fall for it. Why did she have to be so smart?

A few minutes after he arrived and Sherlock saw no sign of John. He was both relieved and terribly sad. On the one hand he didn't have to face him today. On the other, Sherlock really wanted to talk things out.

Sherlock glared when Jim came closer. Jim had a victory grin spread wide on his face.

"Hey, Sherlock. I saw you and that wanna-be doctor fighting yesterday. What were you fighting for?"

"Like you don't know," Sherlock grumbled.

Jim cooly stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked around Sherlock. It reminded Sherlock of a vulture in the sky, circling a dead animal below.

"So what if I do know? Does it change the fact that John hurt your feelings?" he asked slyly.

Sherlock frowned because it didn't. He felt like John shouldn't have believed whatever lie Jim had told him. He felt betrayed that his only friend would fall for it so easily.

Jim smiled wider when he saw Sherlock's defeated look.

"If you want to have a friend so badly, be friends with me," offered Jim, though it sounded more like a demand, "We can play house, evil geniuses and even your favorite detective game. Only sometimes though."

Sherlock stared at him with suspicion. Jim had never been interested in playing detective with Sherlock before.

"You'd really play detective with me?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Yes, but we'd have to play it my way," Jim explained.

Sherlock didn't like the sound of that.

"What's your way?"

Jim was happy that Sherlock asked him that. He always wanted to lay down the rules with Sherlock. To tell him how things were going to be between them from now on.

Jim would do that with his teddy bear when he was two. He would place Mr. Snuffles in time-out and tell him that if he didn't do everything that Jim told him, the bear would get a big boo-boo.

Now he could order Sherlock around.

"You can be the detective. But you'll have to always get into trouble. And I'll always save you. And then you have to kiss me."

Sherlock knew that Jim would say something like this. The five year old really was insane. Sherlock began walking away, his head bent down towards the floor. Jim shrugged, pretending that he didn't care.

"Just think about it, Sherlock. John doesn't like you anymore," he called out.

_John doesn't like you anymore._

The words stung Sherlock's heart. His eyes started to water. What if Jim was right? What if John would never like him again? What if-

Sherlock stopped short when a figure came up in front of him. Sherlock looked up to see who it was.

John. And he looked very nervous. Happiness swelled inside Sherlock. John was here. And the boy was holding something behind his back.

Sherlock was about to take a peek at what was behind John when the doctor-to-be brought the item out in front of him. Sherlock flushed at what he saw.

Macaroni art. There was a big heart and the words 'I'm Sorry' written in blue ink. The penmanship was so pretty that Sherlock knew at once John had an adult write it.

John's eyes were shut tight as he held the artwork in offering. Sherlock felt a blush creeping into his cheeks.

"John?" he said when he finally found his voice.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock," John gathered the courage to look at him, "When I got home, I was still mad. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought that I was wrong. I shouldn't have listened to Jim. I'm sorry."

Sherlock was silent for a long time. Then he took the artwork from John's hands. He peered down at it and held it as if it were precious gold. Finally, Sherlock looked back up at his friend and smiled.

"Thank you, John. Are we friends again?"

"Yeah!" John exclaimed before shyly adding, "I mean, if you want to."

"Of course I want to. I'm so happy, John," Sherlock was now glad that he went to school.

John smiled at Sherlock. He had been so worried last night that he barely slept. His mummy had told him that if Sherlock really was that good a friend, then John would be forgiven. But John had still been very anxious.

He was so glad that he had his mummy write the words down. He knew (much to his amazement and awe) that Sherlock could read. John only knew how to spell a few small words like 'cat.'

"Thank you, Sherlock. Do you want to play detective?" asked John.

Sherlock shook his head.

"Let's play with toy cars instead."

John smiled. He really liked toy cars.

"Okay!"

The two were playing with the huge race track that took Miss Periwinkle two paychecks to buy for the children. Jim glared at the two. He and his henchmen stalked up to them.

Sherlock was the first to notice them. He stopped playing with his police car and stood up to face them. John followed his example, his toy fire truck still in his hands.

"What do you want, Jim?" Sherlock demanded.

The evil five year old glared.

"You can't be friends. You were just fighting!" he exclaimed.

"We made up," Sherlock said, simply.

Jim was flabbergasted. They actually made up? He could've sworn that he accomplished making them hate each other forever.

"But John hurt your feelings. He doesn't deserve to be your friend."

John stared down at the floor completely guilt-striken. Sherlock whispered something into his ear.

"Don't listen to Jim. Never listen to Jim again. That's what started all this, remember?"

John stared at his friend in wonder. Sherlock was so wise for being a four year old.

"What did you just say to him?" Jim demanded.

"None of your business," Sherlock said.

Jim was beginning to have enough of this.

"You can't play with him! If you do, I'll have someone beat him up every day."

Sherlock was stunned into silence but John wasn't afraid. The blond took a bold step towards Jim.

"I'd rather be beaten up than not be friends with Sherlock," he said bravely.

"Besides," Sherlock added once a thought came to him, "If he has a lot of boo-boos, then we would have proof that he was beaten up. And your minions would have to go to time-out."

Now the henchmen behind Jim were the ones looking scared. Time-out scared them more than vegetables or bath time.

"Sherlock. I want you to be my bride. I want a pretend wedding," Jim said all of the sudden.

The detective-to-be took a step back. Then he glared.

"No way! Not after you said that you would have John be beaten up."

"If you marry me, John won't be beaten up," Jim negotiated.

"But the time-out!" Sherlock cried.

Jim glared at all his minions. The boys gulped and backed away. Jim turned his smug smile back to Sherlock.

"They're more afraid of me than of time-out. Marry me."

Sherlock felt stuck. He didn't want John to get hurt. He felt John's hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry," whispered John, "I'm not afraid of him and you shouldn't be either."

"But you'll get hurt," Sherlock whispered back.

John offered an encouraging smile.

"Then we'll have proof and we can tell on Jim. Maybe then Jim will finally have to go to time-out."

Sherlock had never seen Jim in time-out before. The sneaky villain was always avoiding getting into trouble. Maybe if he did go to time-out, Jim would learn his lesson and finally leave Sherlock alone.

But no. Sherlock didn't think it was worth John getting hurt over. He whispered apologetically to John.

"I'm sorry but I don't want you to get hurt. I never want you to get hurt."

"Stop whispering to each other! What's your answer?" demanded Jim.

John frowned. Sherlock turned to Jim.

"I'll marry you if you don't hurt John."

John felt a stab of pain at the thought of Sherlock marrying Jim. He knew that Sherlock would rather go to bed extra early than do that. But there was also another reason why John felt hurt. But he couldn't quite figure out what that reason was...

Jim smiled.

"Alright. Then my henchmen will watch you two while I get the perfect ring. I'm so happy that you're going to marry me. We'll invite the whole kindergarden class."

Sherlock gulped. Jim rushed to the other direction, looking in one of the toy boxes for a ring. John glared at the henchmen. The doctor-to-be turned to Sherlock.

"I'm not afraid of them. Let's fight them off and make a run for it. Then we can tell the teacher."

"John, don't be a martyr. I can't let you get hurt."

John tilted his head.

"What's a martyr?"

Sherlock paused. Truthfully, he didn't know what a martyr was. He heard his brother used the term before and Sherlock decided to copy its use to the best of his abilities.

He didn't want to look like a fool to John.

"It's...very complicated. It would take days for me to explain it," Sherlock half-lied, "But that's not important right now. John, it's only a pretend wedding. If I can stop you from getting hurt, then I will."

John decided to let the vocabulary topic drop. The doctor-to-be sighed.

"But if you let Jim push you around now, he'll always push you around. The only way we can stop him is if we tell the teacher."

"I've tried. Many times. But they don't believe me," Sherlock insisted.

This wasn't good, thought John. He didn't want to see his best friend so discouraged.

What could they do?


	10. Chapter 10

Jim hummed a happy tune to himself as he came back with a beautiful ring. He took it from a board game for girls. The game had you wear pretty jewelry if you earned enough points. The girls playing didn't even bat an eyelash when he grabbed it. They knew that fighting him was not an option.

The ring was plastic (_But it was painted gold. That was pretty neat!_) and a big, fake diamond was in the center. Sherlock would just love this. He would have to because Jim would order him to love it. The evil toddler smiled as he walked back to his bride.

But something that caught his eye made him frown. John was talking to Miss Periwinkle. Miss Periwinkle was frowning at what John was saying. She saw Jim and walked over to him. Jim tried his best to look cute and not glower at John for ratting him out.

"Hello Jim. Can we talk for a moment?" she asked very sweetly.

Time to put up the charm. He ignored John and looked up at the teacher.

"Am I in trouble?" he asked very cutely.

"No sweetie. But I would like to talk to you about something. Is that okay?"

"Okay," Jim agreed.

This wouldn't stop him. He would still have his pretend wedding. Miss Periwinkle smiled at his cooperation and led him to the teacher's room. Jim should thank John. He was probably the only kid who had ever seen the teacher's room. What bragging rights this could be!

Miss Periwinkle sat down and offered Jim a kid's seat. He sat down with grace and poise.

"What did I do?" Jim asked, intentionally sounding scared so that he could earn Miss Periwinkle's pity.

"Don't be so scared. I just have a few concerns about you and Sherlock."

John was not going to win like this. Jim had been lying since he learned how to speak. He smiled at the teacher.

"I like Sherlock. He's my friend," just as adorable as ever.

"That's nice. But John told me that you said Sherlock belonged to you. Is that true, honey?" Miss Periwinkle's voice was full of love and concern.

For a moment Jim was silent. He was trying to think up a good lie. Then he figured it would be better if he told the truth and lied at the same time. He grinned.

"Yeah. He's my friend. So he's mine. Mine. Friend. Get it?"

Miss Periwinkle smiled but Jim could tell that she was still concerned. His heart sank. He was sure that would get him out of trouble.

"Jim. People don't belong to other people. It's not nice," she explained softly.

"Oh. I didn't mean that he has to do everything I say. I just meant that he's my friend. I hope I didn't make John worry," Jim should get an A in lying.

"Oh. Was that what you meant?" Miss Periwinkle looked relieved.

Sweet victory. Jim had her right where he wanted her. He nodded and smiled an angel's smile. She was charmed immediately.

"Alright. As long as that's all you meant. You may go now," she said.

"Thank you, Miss Periwinkle," Jim hopped out of the chair and walked back into the play room.

He glared when he saw John with his arm on Sherlock's shoulder. Jim turned to his minions and had them circle around the two.

"What do you want?" demanded John.

Sherlock was staring at the ground, looking utterly defeated. Jim didn't like to see him so sad but he really wanted to have him as his pretend bride. The evil toddler came up to them and held out the ring that he had been holding.

"We're almost ready. We need a ring bearer and a flower girl and the guy who marries people. I already chose who would do what. Everyone's invited except," he glared at John, "him."

Sherlock didn't say anything. John frowned.

"He's not going to do what you say! I'm not afraid to get beat up," John insisted.

"John. Stop," Sherlock said very forcefully, his head still looking at the floor.

John was stunned as he turned to his friend in shock.

"But Sherlock-"

"I don't want you getting hurt. It's just a pretend wedding. Don't worry about it," Sherlock offered a grimace.

"I'm glad that you made the right decision, Sherlock. We're going to have our wedding in the Ocean section. Come with me," Jim held out his free hand for Sherlock to take.

The detective-to-be reluctantly took it. John felt crushed when he saw them walk away. He wanted to cry and he knew that Sherlock wanted to cry too. He just had to do something!

A few minutes later, a nerdy kid was holding a coloring book up to his face. He was pretending that he was using it to marry the two toddlers off. Jim couldn't find a prettier book to use so it would have to do.

The entire class (except for John) were sitting and waiting patiently for the fake wedding to be over so that they could get back to their games. Sherlock frowned when a girl tossed confetti around like she was the flower girl. The ring bearer brought the toy ring. Jim took it gracefully and put it on Sherlock's finger. Sherlock felt like a prisoner just then and the ring was the cage.

"Do you, Jim, take Sherlock to be your husband?" the nerdy kid asked.

Jim suddenly glared at him, causing the nerdy kid to take a step back.

"You're not doing it right. It's 'take Sherlock to be your wife.' Wife, not husband," Jim complained.

The nerdy kid looked uncertain.

"But isn't he a boy? I thought only girls could be wives."

"No! He's whatever I want him to be. Do it again. Right this time," Jim ordered.

John was hiding behind the giant toy clam and watching the scene helplessly. What could he do to stop this wedding? He needed a miracle.

The nerdy kid nodded that he understood.

"O-okay. Do you, Jim, take Sherlock to be your wife?"

The evil kid smiled and turned to Sherlock with shiny eyes.

"I do," he vowed.

The nerdy kid looked at Sherlock. Sherlock avoided his gaze. He had been avoiding everyone's gaze, including Jim's. Jim didn't like it when he did that.

"Do you, Sherlock, take Jim to be your wife?"

"NO YOU DUMMY!" Jim shouted.

All the kindergartners cowered from his voice. John looked around, hoping that a teacher heard that. But they were all chatting in the teacher room and didn't hear anything. John pouted.

The nerdy kid pushed up his glasses nervously.

"S-sorry. What was I supposed to say?"

"He's the wife. I'm the husband," Jim explained, "Do it right."

The nerdy kid nodded.

"Right. Do you, Sherlock, take Jim to be your husband?"

Sherlock grumbled. The nerdy kid leaned in closer.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

Jim frowned at Sherlock.

"You know what you're supposed to say. Say it. You know what will happen if you don't."

John ran up to the scene.

"Stop this wedding! I obsect!"

Jim and Sherlock just stared at him strangely. John felt his face heat up.

"What? I said it right, didn't I?" John asked.

"It's 'object,' John," Sherlock told him with a genuine smile.

"Oh," that was all John could say.

If you could get so angry that lasers could shoot out of your eyes, then there would be lasers out of Jim's. Who did this wanna-be-doctor think he was?

"Then beat him up now," Jim told one of his minions.

A rather large bully came up, cracking his knuckles. John wasn't afraid. Sherlock was terrified.

"No! Don't Jim. I'll marry you. Don't hurt him."

"He interrupted our wedding. He deserves to be beaten up," Jim stated simply.

"If you hurt him, I won't marry you," Sherlock threatened.

Jim turned his fiery eyes onto Sherlock.

"And if you don't marry me, then I will hurt him all the time. Not just this one time."

"You bully!" Sherlock couldn't stop tears from flowing down his face.

Jim stopped short. John came up to Sherlock, ignoring the minion.

"Are you okay, Sherlock?" John asked in concern.

Jim was furious that John was so close to Sherlock.

"Stop it!" he yelled in John's ear, "He doesn't belong to you! He belongs to me!"

"James Moriarty!" Miss Perwinkle's voice sounded worried and shocked.

All the children turned to the teacher. She had left the teacher's room in order to go to the washroom and powder her nose. Jim was dumbfounded. How much did she hear? She came up closer to the children.

"Did you just say that someone belonged to you? Even after our little talk?" she asked.

"No. No," Jim stammered, "We were just playing. Weren't we everyone?"

"Yes, we were Miss Periwinkle," everyone except John, Sherlock and Jim chanted.

Miss Periwinkle frowned, not appearing convinced. She looked at Sherlock.

"Sherlock. You can talk to me. Did Jim say that you belonged to him?"

Sherlock really wanted to hang Jim out to dry. He wanted the bully to finally pay for what he did. But he was not going to risk John getting hurt. He knew that if he ratted Jim out, Jim would find a way to beat John up anyway. Nothing was worth that.

"Yes, Miss Periwinkle. We saw this on a movie and now we're pretending to be in the movie," he lied.

John was about to protest but both Sherlock and Jim shot him a look. Jim's look was threatening and Sherlock's, pleading. John didn't want Jim to get off scott-free.

Miss Periwinkle looked relieved.

"So you're just playing? Okay. But Jim, I want to make sure that you know you can't own anyone. Do you understand?" she asked to be on the safe side.

"Of course, Miss Periwinkle," Jim smiled innocently, "It's silly to think that you can own someone. They're people too."

"Good job, Jim," the teacher praised and left for the bathroom.

The children watched her retreating figure. Jim waited impatiently for her to get back into the teacher's lounge. And when she finally did, it was the worst timing ever.

Before they could get any farther into the wedding, Mycroft Holmes came inside and ushered Sherlock to come with him. Sherlock looked at John. He wanted to make sure that Jim wouldn't beat him up while he was gone. Mycroft frowned at his little brother's hesitation.

Jim glowered and whispered to Sherlock and John.

"I won't hurt John if you promise to play house with me tomorrow. For as long as I want. Okay?"

"Okay," Sherlock agreed.

John frowned. There just had to be a way to beat Jim.


End file.
